Memories Of Us
by Remember How I Used To Be
Summary: He was supposed to be part of her past. She shouldn't have cared about him anymore, but a string of memories and his picture on that wall brought it all back. Brent Langer/OC


"I haven't seen you around before," someone said as they slid onto the stool next to the young woman sitting by herself at the bar. "And I would certainly have remembered someone as heavenly as you."

Cassy inwardly groaned. She hated it when men slipped up beside her in a bar and attempted to schmooze their way into her good graces with a few alcoholic beverages and unoriginal pick-up lines. That had worked exactly once.

With a disgusted sigh, she got up and moved to the opposite end of the bar. It was her first time here in two years, and she most certainly had not come here to listen to horrible lines. Rather, this was a time to recoup. Now, if a particular man was to appear suddenly and offer an unoriginal pick-up line, she would definitely consider letting him back into her good graces.

"Bad, bad," she muttered, pinching the back of her hand. Still, the thought of that first pick-up line brought a small smile to Cassy's face.

_**Four Years Before**_

"Hey there, gorgeous," a smooth voice murmured into the woman's ear. "Are you alone, or am I just blind to everyone else?"

Her head snapped to the side to look at the man standing beside her. Hazel eyes caught her gaze and sent chills down her spine. A small, self-assured smirk appeared on the man's lips as if he knew exactly what his gaze did to the young woman in front of him.

Her mouth opened and closed a couple of times as the man settled his muscular frame onto the barstool next to her. Once free of his gaze, she cast a surreptitious eye over her new companion. He was clean shaven and wore his dark brown locks just long enough to run her fingers through. There was a slight cleft in his chin, his nose was long, thin, and pointed, and his lips were too thin for him to be called handsome by traditional standards. His body was not overly muscled, but he had obviously spent a fair amount of time at the gym. He certainly filled out his clothes nicely. His white business shirt was looking slightly worse for wear, rumpled with the sleeves unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows.

The man glanced over at her, the small smirk still present on his lips.

"So why are you by yourself?" he asked, propping his head up on his fist to look at her.

"Uh." She found his attention very disconcerting. Her cheeks felt flushed, she was positive they were red. Girls like her did not attract men like him. That was not the way the universe worked.

"Easier question: What's your name?" The man was persistent. That, too, was surprising. Men did not typically persist with her. They usually gave up after several seconds with no response.

"Cassy Williams," she answered finally, brushing her hair nervously behind her ear with one hand and extending the other in greeting. The man's larger hand closed gently around hers.

"Cassy? Is that short for Cassandra?" he asked, still holding her hand in his.

"No."

"Ah. I'm Brent Langer, by the way," he told her, smiling. Cassy's hand tingled as Brent released it.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Brent wanted to know.

"Um, no," she managed, brushing her hair nervously behind her ear a second time even though it hadn't fallen out of place since the first time.

"No?" He gave her a look that begged her to reconsider.

"No. I'm sorry, I just don't typically accept drinks from strangers," Cassy explained.

"Mmm, a good practice," he admitted. "Who knows who I might turn out to be?" Brent waggled his eyebrows at the young woman. An involuntary giggle escaped her mouth. Immediately her cheeks turned bright pink and she looked away.

The smirk reappeared on his lips. He shifted on the stool to glance up at the television over the bar. Cassy sat quietly beside him, watching his face as he sat staring up at the rugby game.

"Do you usually watch rugby?" she asked finally, watching his mouth twitch up at the corners as one man launched himself at his opponent, catching him around the shoulders.

"Huh?" The question caught Brent off-guard. "Not often, the United States is horrible about televising games."

The couple sat in silence for several moments.

"I'm cheering for Ireland," Cassy announced quietly. Brent gave her a mildly amused look.

_**Present**_

Cassy glanced up at the T.V. screen. Baseball. Not her favorite sport, actually it was one of her least favorite sports. She couldn't understand sitting around watching people run in circles without ever touching another person. Sports evolved as training for war. Baseball, as far as she could tell, had no basis in war. That is, unless of course your objective was to run circles around the enemy until he was too dizzy to see straight and shoot you.

However, in Cassy's experience, running circles around someone tended to make you more tired than the person you were attempting to tire out or make dizzy.

_**Three-and-a-half Years Before**_

"Come on, Cassy!" Brent called as he jogged back to his girlfriend. "You're so slow."

Cassy just raised an eyebrow at him, but continued jogging at her regular pace.

"I'm jogging circles around you," Brent complained as he made a few laps around Cassy.

"I noticed," she answered with a calm smile. "I will not be hurried by some overconfident member of the male species."

"Men are a separate species, eh?" he asked, giving her that endearing amused smile.

Cassy just smiled and shook her head. The run was not even half over. She wasn't going to wear herself out any more than necessary. Let Brent do that.

Brent kept chattering away and running around her as the run continued. Soon enough he was puffing, having exhausted himself by trying to outrun her. Cassy looked over at her boyfriend and grinned cheekily as she upped the pace. They last half mile she ran faster than she had before, leaving Brent struggling to keep up. By the time they'd reached the park entrance, Brent was utterly exhausted.

"You're evil," he panted, jabbing a finger at her.

"Of course I am," she answered, stretching out her muscles a little before starting to walk down the street. Brent fell into step beside her.

"Do you have time for breakfast?" Cassy asked, looking hopefully up at Brent.

"I always have time for breakfast with you," he answered, wrapping one arm around her shoulders. In response Cassy's arm squeezed his waist gently.

"I love you," he murmured, planting a kiss on the top of her head.

"Damn I'm tired!" he growled playfully as they kept walking. Cassy just giggled.

_**Present**_

But things hadn't gone well. Cassy wished she could have gone back in time and just ignored that first pick-up line sometimes. Brent had hurt her so much. She hadn't thought it was possible for someone to be as loving and caring as he had been one day and acting like a total stranger the next.

_**Three Years Before**_

Cassy glanced up at her boyfriend from across the table. He'd been unusually quiet throughout dinner, barely touching his food. For Brent this was incredibly strange, especially since it was his favorite.

"Is there something wrong, Brent?" Cassy asked quietly, her brow wrinkling with worry. "Did I overcook it again?"

"Huh?" Brent looked up in surprise. "Oh, no. It's great." As if to prove his words he took a bite, but Cassy knew his heart wasn't in what he'd said. She set down her fork and sat across from him in silence for a long minute.

"Cassy," Brent began, "This—us—just isn't working anymore."

Her mouth opened slightly in shock. She'd never had any indication that things weren't going well between them. Certainly he'd had issues at work before, apparently life as a clerk was tumultuous, but she'd always managed to make him feel better. And his voice, it was so dead. There was absolutely no emotion in his tone.

"What do you mean?" Cassy asked, her voice quavering as she fought back tears.

"We just aren't very good for each other," he answered in that same dead voice.

"We've never had any problems before that we couldn't work through," Cassy pointed out. Her throat was tightening rapidly.

Brent's face darkened as he said, "I'm tired of you. I don't want to be with you anymore. Good-bye, Miss Williams." With that, he rose from the table and left Cassy's apartment.

Cassy sat numbly at the table. The tears that had stung and pricked at her eyes earlier now overflowed onto her cheeks. She dropped her head onto her arms and sobbed.

**The Next Morning**

Cassy woke up in her own bed the next morning, her sheets wrapped tightly around her with absolutely no idea as to how she'd gotten there in the first place. She felt awful, her throat ached, her nose was sore, and her eyes burned. The alarm clock beside her pillow was going off. It was set for 5am so she could get her run in. The run she usually took with Brent. Heart aching, Cassy turned off the alarm and picked up her phone. The phone rang for a few minutes before someone picked up.

"Hey, Cassy!" her co-worker, Jennifer, greeted.

"Hey, Jenn. I need you to let our boss know I'm not coming in today," Cassy said as normally as she could.

"You sound like you have a cold. Do you need me to come see you?" Jennifer asked.

"No, I'm pretty sure it's very contagious. It hit so suddenly. I'll be fine. Thanks, Jenn."

"No problem. Talk to you later!" Jennifer hung up.

Cassy put the receiver back in its place and unplugged the phone. There was no one in this world she wanted or needed to talk to today. Her door needed more secure locking and that was exactly what she did. Each one of her four locks she made sure was fastened tightly in place. As she padded back towards her bedroom she passed the mirror in the hall and caught a glimpse of herself. She was still wearing the short black dress she'd picked out just for Brent, but it was wrinkled. Her hair was still in its braid, but was coming lose by strands. Her eyes were red and puffy.

"I look like I've escaped from the state psychiatric ward," she muttered as she entered her bedroom. Cassy pulled the dress off and tossed it into the corner of her room. She pulled out some fresh underclothes and padded into the bathroom.

The water ran hot over her skin. Angry red patches appeared where the water hit her. Cassy ignored the burning sensation and yanked her hair out of the braid. She didn't really care right now. She was far too upset to care.

After her shower, Cassy pulled on a pair of old sweatpants and black t-shirt. Her hair was still wet as she pulled it into a ponytail behind her head. It didn't really matter what she looked like because she wasn't going anywhere today. Her only companions were going to be a pot of rice and a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream.

"And I'm sure you don't mind my appearance," she muttered as she pulled the ice cream out of her freezer. "After all, you're going to end up in my stomach and that's not a terribly pretty place to begin with."

Cassy stuffed a movie into her DVD player and curled up on the couch with her ice cream. Life owed her this much as it had decided to be an asshole recently.

_**Present**_

Cassy sat staring into her drink. It had taken her a full two weeks to get back into a routine that resembled her old life. Only one day had actually been spent eating ice cream and rice, but even once she started going to work again that was all she did: work, eat, and sleep. She didn't go out with her co-workers, she didn't go out to eat, and she didn't even go to her favorite coffee shop. But it was the first time that she'd actually started to get back into her normal routine that things fell apart again. Or rather, she fell apart again.

_**Flashback**_

It was time to start running again. All of the eating and sleeping she'd been doing the last few days had taken its toll on her weight. Cassy sighed as she pulled on her running clothes and stuffed her iPod into her ears. After locking her apartment she took off at a run down the street. She passed a number of small coffee shops as they were just opening. Perhaps she'd stop in for a mocha afterwards.

"No, bad," she reminded herself. "Those things will undo all the running."

Pink's "Heartbreaker" played out over Cassy's earbuds as she ran past the bar where she'd first met Brent, the bus stop they'd had their first fight at, and the her favorite bookstore. Esmee Denter's "Outta Here" was blasting as she entered the park she'd always jogged through with Brent.

"Damn thing," she muttered as she ran, pulling the buds out of her ears. Was every song this morning going to have some sort of meaning? She finished her run in solemn silence. The last quarter mile to her apartment was always walked. That gave Cassy plenty of time to cool off before she had to re-enter her apartment building.

As she was passing a small café she felt eyes on her. Looking up Cassy found herself caught in Brent's hazel eyes. She tore her eyes away only to find herself watching as a young woman came up from behind Brent and turned his head to kiss him fully on the lips. A sick feeling erupted in the pit of her stomach.

Cassy decided then that she really needed to burn as many calories as possible and started running again. She couldn't bear to look back. The tears blurring her vision would have made it impossible anyway.

_**Present**_

It had taken several months for Cassy to get her life back in order. Even then every glimpse of Brent sent terrible pain stabbing through her heart. He was always with that other woman, touching her, kissing her. The thought of what he'd done to her felt like a knife twisting within her. After a few months of that, Cassy could no longer deal with it. She'd allowed her boss to temporarily transfer her to another state where she wouldn't have to see Brent until she was ready. Now she was back in D.C. It was time to face her past.

Cassy looked up from her drink and looked around at the other bar patrons to take her mind off of things for a moment. She noticed the wall of fallen heroes at one end of the bar. Sitting close to it was an athletic, grey-haired man. He gently placed an I.D. card up on the board next the photos of police, fire fighters, and federal agents who had fallen in the line of duty. She decided to go see who the new hero to be honored was.

The man watched her with interest as she approached the board, but to her relief he said nothing.

A cold wave ran through Cassy's body as if someone had filled her veins with ice water. The new addition to the wall was—no, it couldn't be. With trembling fingers Cassy took the I.D. card off and stared at it. Brent's picture was on it. But it couldn't be his. He'd been a clerk, not an FBI agent.

"You knew him?" the man who'd placed Brent's card on the wall asked.

"I thought I did," she whispered, numbly. "We dated for almost a year."

"I see." The man turned back to his own drink.

"How did he die?" Cassy asked quietly, standing beside the man.

"He was shot, killed by an enemy agent," was the answer.

Cassy sat numbly on the barstool beside the older man. For the first time in over a year, tears began to flow because of Brent. But this time it was over his death, not his leaving. The man wrapped an arm gently around her shoulders and just let her cry.

After several minutes, Cassy pulled back and the man let her.

"Thanks," she whispered as he handed her a tissue. Cassy's hands shook as she placed Brent's card back up on the board.

"Miss?"

Cassy turned to see the bar tender looking at her with interest.

"Would you happen to be Miss Cassy Williams?" he asked.

"Um, yes?" she eyed him warily.

"That man," he gestured to Brent's picture, "gave me this about a year ago. He said you always came in here and he showed me your picture. It took me a while to recognize you, you've changed." He handed her an envelope with her name written on the front.

"He told me he would have mailed it to you, but he'd just found out that you'd moved and had no clue where," the man explained. He gave her a small smile and then started off to take care of another customer.

Cassy paid her tab quickly and ran home to read the letter in private.

Her entire body was trembling as she broke the envelope's seal. Brent had written her a letter shortly after she'd moved away. It would be the first, and last, communication they ever had since the break-up.

'_To my beloved Cassy,_

_I am so sorry for what happened between us. I couldn't tell you then, and I shouldn't tell you now, that I am a federal agent working for the FBI. I had to break up with you because I was given an assignment that required me to play someone's boyfriend. I had to earn her trust and could not risk you getting involved. I didn't want the job, but I was ordered to take it and break up with you. I never meant to hurt you the way I did. I never wanted to hurt you. Please believe me. I love you with all of my heart. I understand if you never want to see me again, but I would like the chance to make it up to you. I don't know how I'm going to yet, but I'm willing to do anything if you will just forgive me. _

_I know it seems corny, but please, listen to "Beautiful" by Jim Brickman and Wayne Brady. I can't express myself the way I'd like. So I found a song that could. I really have never seen anything as beautiful as you. I was so lucky to have you and a fool to have lost you._

_Always yours,_

_Brent'_

Fresh tears stung her eyes as Cassy finished reading. Brent had loved her all along! If only she'd stayed in D.C.

"I do forgive you, Brent," she whispered, holding the letter to her chest. Tears ran down her face as she sat in silence, a small smile on her face. He had always loved her.


End file.
